


Serpens and Canis Major

by nwhiker



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 18:55:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21673408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nwhiker/pseuds/nwhiker
Summary: Severus Snape and Sirius Black are stuck at Hogwarts over Christmas...
Relationships: Sirius Black/Severus Snape
Comments: 24
Kudos: 198





	Serpens and Canis Major

**Author's Note:**

> Canon: HBP
> 
> Previous published on my livejournal.
> 
> Note: was originally posted with the wrong title, because I should never post anything after a night with insomnia.

**Serpens and Canis Major**

  
  
  
**Part 1**  
  
They walked up from Hogsmeade in the summer evening, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. The next day would be the fifth anniversary of Dumbledore's death, the fourth of the defeat of Voldemort and as usual the day would be marked at Hogwarts with a small ceremony, bringing together the surviving members of the Order of the Phoenix.

Dinner in the Great Hall and they marvelled, yet again, at how young even the Seventh Years looked now. Minerva McGonagall was looking tired these days, but still as enthusiastic as ever. Professor Sprout had retired and Neville Longbottom had taken her position, his hands brown and their nails now always encrusted with dirt. It was good to be here, to escape the demands of jobs and London, and to remember how easy, really, things used to be.

After dinner they met in Minerva's office and Harry looked around. Many of the precious things Albus Dumbledore had collected over his years were still there, and his portrait smiled at the four of them as they entered. Harry scowled, as he did every time he saw it, at the photograph that Dumbledore had had Minerva put on the wall where he could see it: it was of Severus Snape, he was sitting in the library studying and he looked up and smiled, a smile like none of them had ever seen on his face. He might have, Harry thought, been on their side, but that didn't make him into a nice person and Harry still resented that Dumbledore had genuinely loved the man.

Minerva tidied up her desk and smiled at them: "Albus would like to speak with the four of you tonight. I'll be down in Celeste Sinistra's rooms if you need anything. If not, I'll see you at breakfast tomorrow."

The portrait Dumbledore called over to them once she'd left, telling them to pull up chairs 'round him. Once they were settled he started to speak.

"It's time you all find out the whole story behind Severus' involvement in the Battle with Voldemort."

They looked at each other, and Harry spoke first: "But Sir... we know he was on our side, and just doing what you asked him to. I..."

But Dumbledore was shaking his head: "I mean why, Harry. Why he switched sides. And why, really, he went to Voldemort in the first place. It's a long story, and I think it's time you all learned the whole truth."

He looked at them: "If you remember, Harry, I told you that betraying your parents was Severus' biggest regret and that his repentance was totally sincere. I know you didn't believe me, and that others have pointed out over and over that Severus and your father hated each other."

Harry nodded, and hesitated, before saying slowly: "I suppose it was my mum..." he let his voice trail off.

Dumbledore answered: "Yes, but not in the way you think. He loved your mother, he was as close to her as he'd ever been to anyone. He wasn't, however, in love with her. That was someone else."

He stared at the background of his portrait for a little while, then said: "Over on the bookshelf by the window, you'll see, top shelf, left hand side, a small volume of Shakespeare's sonnets."

Ron, by far the tallest, went over to retrieve the book, and handed it to Harry.

"Cast a revealing spell." instructed the portrait.

Harry did and opened the book. Inside was a small blue glass vial, and a sealed letter. He picked up the vial.

"Leave the letter for now. The vial contains a series of memories. I've knit them together as best as I could. It's time you saw them all." said Albus Dumbledore. "I want the four of you to do this together. You've been through it all together and this is perhaps the final piece, the one thing you could not know."

The scene coalesced. It was the Headmaster's office, in the early morning. Dumbledore was at the window, his back to the room. Harry and Ron both gasped when they say the other person in the memory: Snape, sitting on a chair, hunched over his knees, his face hidden.

Harry looked around the memory office and noticed the number of broken things. He turned to the others: "I did all that damage. It's the morning after... after Sirius died."

"Here we go....." said Ginny quietly.

Albus Dumbledore walked from the window to the younger man, who hadn't moved. His harsh breathing was the only sound.

"Severus." The Headmaster said quietly, putting a hand on Snape's shoulder. Snape shrugged, and Dumbledore removed his hand.

"Don't touch me." The voice was tight.

Dumbledore nodded.

Snape stood: "May I leave, Headmaster?"

Sorrowfully, Dumbledore shook his head. "I need one more thing from you, Severus."

"What more? I've already lost..." He sighed: "Yes Headmaster?"

Dumbledore took a small blue vial and gently placed it on the edge of the desk. "I need your memories, Severus."

"Which ones?"

"You know which ones."

Snape took two steps back and in his voice was the panic of a wounded, cornered, animal: "No!"

"Please, Severus."

"No! You're going to show them to Potter. No. I can't. It's all I... We'd just..."

"Severus." The voice was gentle, but still relentless.

Snape's voice was angry, rising with each repetition: "No. No! No!!" He walked to the desk, grabbed the blue vial and threw it across the room, then swept the desk clean with his arm. His face was tortured, and Harry was unpleasantly reminded on their encounter as Snape had fled Hogwarts after murdering -killing- Dumbledore.

He fell into the chair.

"No," he said again, but this time it was almost a whimper.

Wordlessly, Dumbledore retrieved the vial, and put it back down on the desk.

"Severus," he said.

Defeated, Snape pulled his wand and began retrieving silvery memories. Tears were running down his face as he did, and Dumbledore kindly turned away.

  
Fog.

Dumbledore in front of the pensieve, obviously the same morning. Using a silvery-blue thread he seemed to be knitting together the silvery memories. There were several vials, in addition to the blue one, next to him.

  
Fog.

Same office, a much younger Dumbledore sitting at the desk. Knock at the door.

"Come in."

Two young men entered the office. Severus Snape and Sirius Black, both about 15. Snape looked like an overgrown crow, dark and greasy and Sirius was... Sirius was glorious. Beautiful, proud, his demeanour self-assured, almost cocky, and just nonchalant enough.

"Mister Black, Mister Snape." said Dumbledore. "Please sit down."

He looked at the two young men in front of him. "So. Both of you have elected to spend your Christmas break here at school."

"Yes, Headmaster" said Snape, politely, while Sirius smirked, the look on his face clear: "Like you had anywhere else to go, Snivellus."

"Very well. Now, I'd like to make a proposal to the two of you."

They looked at each other, briefly, warily, then back at Dumbledore: "Yes, Sir?" said Snape.

"I am sure it would make your vacation much more pleasant if you were able to visit Hogsmeade a few times?" he asked.

Both boys nodded.

"I thought so. I have some homework assignments for you. Complete them to my satisfaction by lunch and you will be free to spend the afternoon in the village." He smiled. "Would that arrangement be acceptable to both of you?"

Sirius grinned: "Yes, Sir!" he said happily, seeing himself ensconced at Madam Rosmerta's drinking butterbeer.

Snape was more suspicious: "What is the catch, Sir?"

Dumbledore smiled: "Mister Snape! Have some faith in me."

He handed them each two pieces of parchment. "Your assignments. They are the same. For extra credit in both Potions and Transfiguration."

Sirius quickly scanned the Transfiguration exercises, both theory and practical, and smiled smugly. Easy. This should take him less than an hour and he'd be free. He started reading the Potions questions and his smile faded.

Dumbledore stood: "Professor Slughorn is allowing you to use the small lab by the storeroom, you should find everything you need there to brew the potions. Your transfiguration supplies are there as well, though you are of course free to work elsewhere if you prefer."

Both boys stood as well and murmured: "Thank you, Sir."

"I'll see you at lunch, assignments completed then." he said smiling.

As they turned to leave, he added: "Mister Black? Mister Snape?" They waited politely. "It is probably very obvious to both of you that neither of you can complete these assignments on your own. I hope that you can help each other, teach each other. I do not, of course, mean doing the other's work for them, but actually cooperating. Is that clear?"

They both nodded.

"Very well. You may go."

  
Fog.

The boys walked into a small lab down in the dungeons. Snape used his wand to flick on the lights. They looked around, and Sirius sauntered over to the desk and took a look at the things that Dumbledore had provided for practice.

Snape's voice was hesitant: "Should we...?"

Sirius cut him off: "If you think I'm going to work with you, Snivellus, you are so totally wrong. Figure it out on your own, all right?"

Snape shrugged, put down his papers, took what looked to be sharp knife from his robe and started sorting potions ingredients.

Sirius was soon involved in his Transfiguration work and Snape chopped and shredded. He set something to simmer in a cauldron, took out a quill and appeared to be working on some of the theoretical questions.

Neither boy spoke and when their eyes happened to meet, they glared at each other.

While Snape stirred his potion, his normally greasy hair becoming lankier and even greasier, Sirius finished his Transfiguration work. He walked over to the potions ingredients, grabbed some of the leafy plants and haphazardly started shredding them. He winced when the oils from the plant got all over his hands and started to burn. Without looking up, Snape smirked: "Don't wash your hands, water will make it worse. Use some graphorn powder to neutralise it. Over there." He pointed at a shelf.

Sirius scowled, but did as Snape said. He may have hated Snivellus, but he knew that the other boy's Potions knowledge was probably almost as good as, if not better than, Slughorn's.

They worked in silence. Snape took up the Transfiguration exercises and sighed. He started working on the practical part and Sirius laughed, mockingly, as his spells failed miserably.

By noon, Snape's potion was in a vial and corked, Sirius’s had turned to a fowl smelling sludge in the bottom of his cauldron. On the other hand, his essay on Transfiguration was complete, and probably as high quality as Snape's Potions one. Sirius’s button was perfectly untransfigured, it had been a teapot, but Snape's looked like a slotted spoon, and he found out later it should have been silver sugar tongs. Sirius was frantically scribbling on his Potions essay when Albus Dumbledore walked in.

"Gentlemen." he smiled, as they both turned to him. He looked at the uneven results presented to him and sighed. "Very well, you've made your choices. Please stop by my offices tomorrow morning if you wish to try again."

  
Fog.

It was obviously the next day and the two boys were back in the little lab. This time Sirius was staring at the valerian roots sitting with a few other ingredients on the table, turned to Snape and asked: "Do you think we can work together?"

Snape's mouth was pressed into a frown. "I don't know, but we can certainly try." He grimaced. "There are only Second Years left in Slytherin Tower."

Sirius couldn't help laughing. "Should we start with the potion?"

Snape nodded. "It'll need to simmer for an hour or so."

Without much talk, they started. Snape showed Sirius how to efficiently shred the valerian root and that it was better to use a stainless-steel blade when chopping pennyroyal and they carefully and quickly got the potion simmering. The theoretical questions were more complicated, but Snape obviously loved the subject and his enthusiasm helped Sirius get through the drudge he felt they were and with some help, he pinned down a concept he'd had no hope of mastering before then. After that, Snape showed him how stirring only clockwise helped the potion simmer more evenly and then they started on the Transfiguration work.

A while later, Sirius flipped his hair back from his face, in a careless gesture, and said: "You really aren't bad at this, you just haven't to take it as a whole, rather than step by step."

Snape sighed: "But I'm used to breaking things down..."

"I know, but with this type of thing, there are no intermediate steps. You have to feel it through."

Snape nodded: "Is that true for all Transfiguration?"

Sirius shook his head: "No, not all. Just this part. Try again."

When Dumbledore came by at about noon, they were just finishing up. His smile was broad when he looked over their written work, the potion and when Snape showed him his progress in Transfiguration.

"Well done, gentlemen. Shall we have lunch, before you two head down to Hogsmeade?"

  
Fog.

They were walking into Hogsmeade, their cloaks on, a smile on Sirius’s face. He turned to Snape: "Meet you back here at about 4?" he asked. Snape nodded and headed towards the Potions shop, while Sirius headed to Honeydukes, planning on stocking up on chocolate frogs before heading over to The Three Broomsticks for a butterbeer and to flirt with Madam Rosmerta.

  
Fog.

It was late afternoon and Snape was impatiently standing outside The Three Broomsticks waiting for Sirius, who finally stumbled out, holding numerous small packages from various shops.

"You're late."

Sirius grinned, pulling his cloak closer and flipping his hair back: "I was busy."

"Busy?" asked Snape, his curiosity too much, as the boys walked back to the castle in the growing darkness.

"Madam Rosmerta."

"Oh?"

"Oh yeah. Busy getting my hand up her skirts."

Snape choked and Sirius laughed: "I figure I can bed her by the end of the week."

Snape had stopped and was staring at the other boy, his mouth open.

"What?"

"I..."

Sirius laughed again. "It's no big deal. She likes boys, and pretty boys especially, and usually most good looking Seventh Years can get laid... I figure I'll just be precocious."

Snape's mouth was still agape.

Sirius smirked: "I know, Snivellus. This would never happen to you, but for some of us, being desired is a daily thing."

Snape shut his mouth and started walking quickly, pulling his cloak closed.

  
Fog.

The small lab. Snape was pacing, waiting.

"You're late." he spat, when Sirius came in.

Sirius shrugged: "Did you know that that Seventh Year Ravenclaw broke up with her boyfriend just before the holidays?"

Snape's voice was icy: "And she needs you to console her?"

Sirius’s grin was cocky. "You bet. I wonder if I can sneak into their dorms?"

"That's disgusting."

"You're just jealous."

Snape didn't speak, but the bitter set of his mouth was answer enough.

They worked in silence mostly, communicating only the bare minimum to get their tasks done. Sirius looked uncomfortable with the atmosphere and tried to engage Snape in some talk a few times but failed.

Sirius was about to add something to the cauldron, when Snape, looking over, moved quickly: he knocked Sirius out of the way, grabbing his wrist and pinning him against the table.

Neither boy moved for a few seconds.

Snape sprang back, a blush on his face.

"What the fuck?" yelled Sirius.

"You can't add fluxweed like that. If you do, it'll explode in your face."

"Oh." He hesitated. "Thank you."

Snape just shrugged.

Sirius was explaining a point of Transfiguration to the other boy, when he suddenly stopped and looked at him. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

Snape quirked an eyebrow: "What?"

"That you were jealous. I... Oh, never mind."

Snape just nodded and they finished up their work, earning themselves Dumbledore's praise and another afternoon in Hogsmeade.

  
Fog.

"Meet me for a butterbeer before we head back?" asked Sirius.

"No."

"Oh, come on, Snape. Aside from the Wailing Ravenclaw, there are only Third and Second Years left in the castle. We can at least try..."

Snape cut him off: "No thanks. You can go woo Madam Rosmerta on your own."

Sirius laughed and sauntered off. Snape watched him go, shook his head, and trudged slowly over to Dervish & Banges.

  
Fog.

Sirius was in the Three Broomsticks and who was wooing who could definitely be questioned. He had a vaguely panicked look on his face and things were progressing much faster than he'd expected. This was not the quick fumblings in dark corner, she'd gone straight for his crotch and positioned her hand right there and he was hard and scared. He looked around, desperately, but aside from a sad, old, drunk wizard in the corner, they were alone.

"So what do you say, love? Time to come check out my room?" purred Madam Rosmerta.

He gulped.

"Ahem"

They both looked up. Snape was standing there, looking at them with disapproval.

"Black, if we are to get back to the castle on time, we'd best be leaving."

Sirius sprang up, gathered his parcels and after hurried goodbyes and a promise to come back the next day, he escaped the pub with Snape, and they hurried back towards Hogwarts.

"Thank you." he said, suddenly.

Snape shrugged. "I didn't want to be late again."

"Yeah, well... I'm glad you came."

"In over your head, Black?" Snape smirked.

Sirius hesitated, then for some reason he answered: "Yes."

"Oh." said Snape, obviously surprised.

"Will you come with me tomorrow?" he asked.

Snape hesitated. "I...ummm... No."

"Oh, come on, Snape. Hot butterbeer before this god-awful freezing walk back to the castle? And I'll owe you one!"

Snape shrugged again and they lapsed into silence.

  
Fog.

They were staring at their morning assignments.

"Humm." said Snape, "Definitely not as difficult as the previous ones."

"Good. They shouldn't take too long then."

"In a hurry to get back to Madam Rosmerta?"

"Shut the fuck up, Snape."

"Whatever."

They worked in silence and it was easy to see how they'd learned to work together, chopping and handing each other ingredients and seemingly anticipating each other. Sirius, with a start, realised that it felt comfortable, almost like working with Remus.

They were both leaning over to peer at some crushed beetle carapaces on a scale, when their shoulders touched. Snape skirted away, but Sirius leaned into him and neither moved for a few seconds. Snape was staring, almost hypnotised, as their hair, his, lank and greasy, Sirius’s, soft and glossy mingled on their arms.

Sirius drawled: "I wonder if grease is catching?" and Snape jumped away. He bit his lip as he silently grabbed the mortar and pestle.

He didn't look at Sirius again, though the other boy stared at him more than once. Snape kept his head down, his face hidden in his hair, and made sure there was no contact between the two of them as they carefully brewed the potion, that Snape had explained was one of the components of Veritaserum.

"Can we brew Veritaserum?"

Snape lifted an eyebrow: "I could. I doubt you would succeed."

"Will you?"

"Why?"

"I dunno. Could be fun. We could get Miranda to tell us all about Stephen. He's the guy who dumped her."

"And you think she'd take it? I doubt that."

"I was going to slip it in her pumpkin juice, actually," he said, seemingly unconcerned.

Snape stared at him, horror on his face: "That's.... that's..."

"That's what?"

"That is horrid. How could you even think...?"

Sirius just grinned, and further discussion was tabled as Slughorn walked in.

"Mister Black, Mister Snape. How are things?"

"We've finished with the potion, Sir, and most of the Transfiguration essay."

"Why don't you two go now? Have lunch down at the pub, I'm sure Madam Rosmerta will be happy to see you."

Sirius grinned: "Thank you, Sir."

Snape seemed more hesitant. "Maybe we should wait..."

"No, no" said Slughorn, smirking, "I've cleared it with Dumbledore. Go on, go on!"

  
Fog.

"Come on, Snape!" said Sirius, "Lunch. Aren't you hungry?"

They were in Hogsmeade, in front of The Three Broomsticks. Sirius, having carefully noted that the pub was crowded, so Madam Rosmerta wouldn't have too much time to dedicate to him, was about to go in and attempting to persuade Snape to come with him. The other boy steadfastly refused. Finally, Sirius shrugged, went in himself, while Snape stalked off.

"Suit yourself!" he called after the other boy.

  
Fog.

Snape was leaning against the wall when Sirius came out of the pub several hours later. He'd had lunch, then bought a few things at Zonko's and a new quill at Scrivenshaft's, then treated himself to a warm new scarf at Gladrags. It was cold and getting colder as they started the walk back to the school. While the afternoon of freedom had its appeal, the trudge back did make him wonder if maybe the Gryffindor Common Room, with its large fireplace with a roaring fire and it's squashy armchairs wasn't a better place to spend the afternoon.

He heard something strange, a sound he couldn't place. He listened carefully and suddenly realised that it was Snape: his teeth were chattering.

"You cold?" he asked, cringing after at how stupid the question must sound.

Snape looked at him and sneered a no.

Sirius was quiet, as they continued to walk. He looked at Snape, noticing for the first time how thin the black cloak was, that the boy's shoes didn't seem very sturdy, and how his scarf -in Slytherin colours- was thin and rather ratty.

Suddenly he remembered a comment the owner of Gladrags had made, about some Hogwarts students hanging around in his store and not buying anything. He stopped, thoughts spinning through his head.

"Snape!" he said when he caught up with the other boy. "Where'd you have lunch?"

"What the fuck business is it of yours?" the boy snapped.

"You didn't, did you?" he said, guilt playing on his sensitive face. "You didn't have the money... Why the fuck didn't you tell me? I could certainly have bought you lunch!"

Snape stopped and turned towards Black, his face pale with rage: "Accept charity from you, Black? I don't think so!"

They stared at each other in the evening gloom, and Snape's stomach growled, loud in the silence.

Snape bit his lip, humiliated, turned and ran towards the castle. Sirius stood, in the cold, for a while, his face uncharacteristically grave.

  
Fog.

Dinner at the Great Hall, at the smaller table used when most of the students were gone. Severus Snape was missing. The smile on Slughorn's face was snide.

  
Fog.

Obviously late at night. Sirius Black sitting in an armchair in front of the fire in the Gryffindor Common Room. He seemed to be thinking, then they heard him sigh. He pulled something from his pocket and stared at it. They recognised the Marauder's Map.

Putting the parchment away, he stood and left the Common Room, striding quietly through the deserted hallways to Dumbledore's office. He knocked, and at the Headmaster's invitation, stepped into the office.

"Mister Black. It's quite late. What can I do for you?"

"It's... ummm... well..."

"Yes?" asked Dumbledore, patiently.

"It's Snape, Sir. He didn't come to dinner."

"No, I noticed that."

"The thing is, Sir... I don't think he ate lunch either."

"Oh?"

When Sirius had finished explaining, he stood there, staring at his feet, while Dumbledore sighed, and nodded. He wrote something quickly on a piece of parchment, and spoke: "Mister Black, this password will get you into the Slytherin Common Room, at least until it's changed. Go to the kitchens, an elf will be waiting for you with a tray, and bring it to Mister Snape, please."

Sirius’s eyes widened: "You want me to... But..."

Dumbledore stood: "Thank you Mister Black."

  
Fog.

Balancing a tray, Sirius Black entered the Slytherin Common Room. He put it down and pulled out the Maurauder's Map and confidently headed deeper down into the dungeons.

He walked into the Slytherin 5th Year Dormitory and Snape, who'd been lying on his bed, jumped up.

"What the...?"

With a cheeky grin, Sirius, careful with the tray, executed a mock bow: "Your dinner, Mister Snape."

Snape's jaw dropped.

Sirius put the tray down on the cabinet next to the bed and sat himself down on the bed nearest Snape's.

"Dinner." he encouraged.

"And why... How..."

Sirius cut him off, not looking at the other boy: "Slughorn was a bastard and I didn't help. I went to see the Headmaster and he let me do this. You haven't eaten since breakfast, have you?"

Eyes lowered, Snape shook his head.

"Well then. Eat."

Snape stared at him suspiciously. Sirius sighed and grabbed a slice of cake from the tray: "I didn't poison it, Snape."

They ate, quiet at first, but then started to talk. Classes and professors, then magical theory, and great Witches and Wizards. Quidditch and bad jokes. They talked a bit about their families and Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny were not surprised to find out that Snape's parents had been both unloving and abusive.

Snape pulled out a Muggle chess set and they sat cross legged on the bed and started to play, two dark heads bent over the board, more or less quiet, only rarely looking up at each other, though it was easy to tell that the silence was comfortable.

After a while, they ended up laying down, on their sides, the chessboard on the bed between them. Sirius was nodding off as Snape pondered his moves and he grabbed a pillow from the bed next to Snape's. He shivered: "It's cold down here."

Wordlessly, Snape put away the chess set and pulled the duvet up over them both. They lay facing each other for a long time, quiet, then Sirius reached out and gently touched Snape's cheek with a finger.

Snape's eyes closed and the look on his face was... almost thoughtful, as if he were pondering what had just happened. Sirius, on the other hand, was staring, intent, taut, ready.

Snape opened his eyes and the two boys stared a each other. Sirius cupped Snape's chin with this hand, leaned over and kissed Snape's pale thin lips.

Harry made a strangled noise and Hermione sighed.

One kiss. Then one more. Sirius leaned further over and then suddenly Snape did as well and they were kissing, and holding and pressing against each other, black hair mingling and arms gripping.

"Oh!" said Hermione softly.

The two boys kissed for a long time, their kisses sometimes punctuated with laughter and soft moans. Eventually, still dressed, they curled up together, looking warm and comfortable, and fell asleep.

  
Fog.

Harry turned to the other three: "What the hell?"

Hermione sighed: "Oh Harry. It makes so much sense, doesn't it?"

"But what happened?" asked Ron, "I mean... Harry and I have played chess sitting on my bed, but we've never ended up snogging!"

Hermione smiled: "I don't know. Maybe they both liked guys. But it would certainly explain a lot of things."

Ginny said suddenly: "Is it just me, or was that just like, totally hot?"

Hermione blushed and Harry and Ron looked slightly uncomfortable.

"Let's see what happens next..." sighed Ron.

There were no windows but the gloom of the Slytherin dungeon seemed to magically lessen to indicate that it was morning, and both boys woke up at about the same time. Eyes still closed, they sought out each other's lips, holding close, and kissed, Snape's hand running through Sirius’s long silky hair.

A look of drowsy happiness on his face, Snape's eyes opened. To see Sirius’s face, close in, beautiful and sensual. A strangled sound escaped his mouth and Sirius’s grey eyes, soft and sleepy opened too, only to snap to reality.

Snape jumped back to get off the bed, ended up tangling himself in his covers and falling on his arse on the floor. Sirius, in the meanwhile, smoothly stood up, stretched and looked over at the boy on the floor: "You really must be desperate, Snivellus," he said mockingly, and left, whistling an upbeat tune.

Snape, left alone, slowly stood up, his face largely hidden in his hair. He lay back down on the bed and buried his face in his pillow. Then he lifted his head, threw his own pillow on the floor, grabbed the one Sirius had used and used it to muffle what were obviously sobs, because they could see his shoulders shaking.

  
Fog.

Sirius, in a corridor near the Gryffindor Tower. He wasn't whistling anymore and was leaning against the wall, his forehead on the cool stone. He jumped when Albus Dumbledore gently touched his arm.

"You are up early, Mister Black?"

He shook his head and spluttered: "Yes.. um.. no, Yes.... umm, Headmaster...."

Dumbledore smiled and they caught the twinkle in his eyes: "Happy Christmas, Mister Black. I shall see you at breakfast."

He walked away, and Sirius stared after him, before quietly walking the rest of the way to his dorm.

  
Fog.

The next memories were spots from what was obviously Christmas Day: Snape and Sirius seeing each other on the Great Hall on the way to breakfast, both blushing and turning aside. Their hands brushing as both reached for a basket of rolls and both jerking away as if they'd been burned. Christmas dinner and Dumbledore insisting they sit next to each other near the Seventh Year Ravenclaw, Miranda, and that they pull a wizard cracker each and how they avoided looking at each other as they did.

That afternoon, at Dumbledore's insistence all the students and teachers went outside for a gigantic snowball fight and Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny smiled at the memory, watching as the students challenged the teachers, as Miranda, the Wailing Ravenclaw, found a competitive streak in her and marshalled her small troops (mostly second and third years) to victory. They saw Sirius wait 'til everyone else was back inside the castle, then sneak up on Snape and push him into a snowbank, launching himself on top of him. The two boys rolled around in the snow, laughing and struggling until finally they started kissing.

Ginny giggled as Dumbledore approached the tangle of limbs. The Headmaster stood quietly for a few moments, looking at the two boys, an indulgent smile on his face.

"Mister Black? Mister Snape?"

They both hopped onto their feet, as fast as possible, Sirius holding the Headmaster's eyes calmly, Snape staring down at his feet, his face beet-red.

"I expect you both would like to get into dry clothes. When you are done, please meet me in my office."

"Yes, Sir."

"Yes, Sir."

They looked at each other, guilt on their faces before following the Headmaster back into the castle.

  
Fog.

Dumbledore's office. Sirius, Snape and the Ravenclaw, Miranda, were all sitting in front on the desk. Dumbledore walked in, smiling, holding a few pieces of paper.

"I am leaving Hogwarts tomorrow early morning to attend a conference on Charms in Italy. Since aside from some Second and Third Years, you are the only upper year students left at the Castle, I requested permission from your parents for you to accompany me. It should be an educational experience."

He turned to Miranda: "Miss Richardson, Professor Flitwick tells me you are interested in the unplotting charms?"

She nodded.

"The conference is on outwizarding Muggle map making devices. I think you will find it interesting."

"Now, please see to your packing." He smiled. They turned to leave but Dumbledore spoke again: "Mister Black, Mister Snape?"

They both turned, as Miranda left.

"I expect both of you to be in your own beds tonight."

  
Fog.

Slughorn, Minerva McGonagall were with Dumbledore.

"I can see taking Miss Richardson and Black with you, Albus" said Slughorn, "but Snape? The boy is a savage, and a rude little thing. No upbringing there, that much is obvious."

"I think this will be a good thing for him," said Dumbledore calmly.

Minerva McGonagall sniffed: "As long as he and Black don't throw each other in Mt Etna."

They all laughed. Slughorn left shortly after and McGonagall and Dumbledore sat quietly for a long time, sipping tea. Finally, she spoke: "Are you sure, Albus? I mean, about encouraging those two to...bond?"

"If those two can work together, Minerva, they will shape what happens to the Wizarding World over the next twenty years, and for the better. If they can't, not only will our world suffer but... they will destroy each other."

  
Fog.

Snape, Sirius, Miranda, and Dumbledore were on the steps of a large building, bathed by the morning sun, overlooking the Mediterranean Sea.

"Miss Richardson, let us listen in on what Guillermo Garcia has to say about Muggle Aerial Photography. Mister Black, Mister Snape, will you meet us back here for lunch at noon?"

The other two entered the building and Sirius pushed Snape behind a large white marble column and kissed the other boy.

When he stopped to catch his breath, Snape, his lips red from the kiss said softly: "You really must be desperate, Black."

Sirius laughed: "Not really. I just can't seem to get the thought of kissing you out of my mind."

Their eyes met, briefly, and suddenly shy, they both looked away. Sirius’s voice was hoarse when he said: "Shall we walk down to the harbour?"

  
Fog.

Like the snippets of memories from Christmas Day, these were small, sometimes static snapshots. Checking out the fishing boats, with their magical nets. Eating with Dumbledore and Miranda, at a small outdoor café, under a grape arbor. Climbing on the cliffs above the sea, looking down at the birds and seals, holding hands and sometimes stopping to kiss.

  
Fog.

Sirius and Snape, pink cheeked from their day in the sun, met with Dumbledore and Miranda in front of the big building. Dumbledore smiled at them: "Mister Black, Mister Snape! I hope you enjoyed your afternoon?"

They glanced quickly at each other and the Headmaster smiled. "We are going to be staying tonight with a friend of mine who has a small house further out on the point. He and his wife are eager to meet the three of you."

  
Fog.

They were meeting with an elderly witch and wizard. The wizard seemed familiar, but the four observers couldn't place him until Sirius’s very polite "Is there anything I can do to help you with dinner, Mrs Flamel?"

Dinner was in front of the fire and Nicholas Flamel explained to Sirius and Snape, that despite what they thought, that it was plenty warm outside for beach and terrace activities, most for people living in Southern Italy this was winter cold. Dumbledore teased his old friend about being a weather weenie and Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny laughed quietly in the memory.

Perenelle Flamel escorted the three young people up to their bedrooms, and when she came back, she sat down with the two wizards and they sat drinking tea in front of the fire. Her voice, with its soft French accent, was questioning: "I put your two boys in the same room, Albus. They are very sweet."

Dumbledore nodded: "They'd both balk at that description, but yes, they are."

"And very taken with each other?" said Nicolas Flamel.

Dumbledore nodded again: "Yes. Though a week ago, they were closer to killing each other than holding hands."

They all smiled. The boys had been holding hands under the table all through dinner.

"So Albus, why?"

Albus Dumbledore sighed: "Tom Riddle worries me, Nicolas, for all he's restyled himself Lord Voldemort. He's gaining in power and I believe things are going to get more and more dangerous over the next few years. I want those two bonded and if it means letting them -even encouraging them to-... become intimate... it's a small price to pay."

"Why those two?"

"Severus. He's... powerful. Very powerful. And very alone, and very abused. And hanging out with the wrong crowd. The ones that left school this past June all went to join Tom, I expect the same from the ones leaving this year. I want to keep Severus on our side."

"He can't be evil?!" exclaimed Perenelle.

Dumbledore shook his head: "He isn't. He is fundamentally a good boy, but he's been let down by... everyone. His parents. His so-called friends. He is very taken with the Dark Arts, in large part because he had to defend himself and his mother from a violent abusive father when he was very young. He desperately wants to be loved... and respected. He is very vulnerable. Sirius, on the other hand, is straight as an arrow. I'm hoping that... if they can become close, bond, he can keep Severus from doing something he'll regret."

Perenelle nodded. "And you think that getting them together will work?"

"I hope so. There is a other issue, another boy. He and Severus loathe each other, in a way totally different from Sirius and Severus. I hope he won't upset this fragile alliance."

"Could he?"

"Yes. He is Sirius’s best friend, and his approval means a lot to Sirius. I am hoping that Sirius’s loyalty to his lover with help him smooth all that out."

Nicolas Flamel sighed: "All this seems very precarious, Albus."

"I know. It is. It just seems like the best I can do right now, to try to stave off disaster for Severus."

Perenelle hesitated: "Albus... did you... use anything?"

"You mean a love potion?" She nodded. He shook his head: "No. It's all them. It just took... putting them together in a setting where they had to work together. It's been obvious from the second I ever saw them together, that potential."

Nicolas nodded: "I do hope this all works out, Albus. They are very sweet boys, I think. If you agree, we'd happily keep them here for the rest of your break."

Dumbledore sat in silence for a while, staring at the fire, then nodded: "That might be a good idea. At school, I must both allow and forbid, and being here... well, they can explore on their own...."

  
Fog.

Snape walked into the small bedroom, holding his toothbrush. Sirius was sitting up in bed, the covers over his lap, his chest naked. Both Hermione and Ginny's breath caught: Sirius, half naked, was breathtaking. Milky white skin, just enough chest hair, muscled, his dark shiny hair brushing his shoulders....

Snape stopped and stared and they all heard his sharp intake of breath. Sirius grinned: "I used a joining spell on the beds."

Snape blushed. Sirius laughed. Snape walked over to his small case, set on a chair, and pulled out a nightshirt, turned his back to Sirius, who continued to look at him, a half smile on this face. Snape flicked his wand to turn off the lights, but Sirius turned them back on, saying quietly "Leave them on".

Snape's blush was even deeper and he dropped his nightshirt, bent to pick it up, held it close: "Well, then don't look at me."

A slightly predatory grin in his face, Sirius hopped out of bed, and they all gasped. From where they were standing in the memory, the view they got was of his arse and it was a fine one indeed. Ginny whistled lightly and Harry and Ron both scowled at her.

Sirius walked over to the other boy, took the nightshirt from him and tossed it on a chair. "You won't be needing it," he said confidently. Snape looked up at him quickly, through the hair that hid most of his face, and bit his lip. He'd looked down, then realised what he was looking at and blushed almost purple.

Sirius’s laugh was soft, gentle, and his hands didn't tremble when they slowly unbuttoned Snape's shirt, pulling it out of the trousers, then slipping his hands inside, flat on Snape's chest. Snape gasped, and as Sirius's thumb touched a nipple, whimpered. The shirt fell to the ground, ignored, as Sirius pulled the other boy closer, running his hands on his back, his shoulders, and kissing his face, his lips, his neck. Snape didn't move, his head thrown back, until he lifted his arms to hold onto Sirius and the kisses deepened and the boys rubbed their groins together. Sirius slowly pulled away, and bent again over the shorter boy, nipped at his lower lip.

"Let's get these off of you." he said.

The memory blurred slightly, as if through watery glass and the sounds muffled, and they could just make out Sirius helping Snape out of his trousers, almost hear his moan as Sirius pulled him in closer, his hands on Snape's arse.

Sirius bent slightly and picked Snape up, ignoring the other boy's protests and carried him the few feet to the bed, putting him down on it. He lay down next to him and they looked at each other. Sirius reached out and he ran his hand from Snape's shoulder, down his arm, over his hip, dipping back to cup a buttock. Snape whimpered and reached out to the other boy.

  
Fog.

"Whoa," said Ginny.

Hermione sighed: "Such beautiful boys... And my heavens, Dumbledore was a meddler."

"I'm glad we don't have to watch," said Harry and Ron nodded.

Ginny snickered: "I dunno. Though I suppose... it is rather private."

Harry rolled his eyes, and the memory moved again.

They were curled up together in the bed, the sheets at their waists, Sirius behind Snape, holding him close, his nose buried in the nape of Snape's neck. This was definitely after sex and the calm happiness of the memory made Harry's throat ache.

"Severus?"

"Mmmm?"

"Was that... well... was that any good?"

Snape pulled out of the embrace, rolled over and looked at Sirius, puzzled: "What, you can't tell?"

"Well... it's not like I... well... ummmm..."

Sirius had blushed.

Snape's head flopped down on the pillow: "Oh great. So you don't know what you are doing either... I was hoping you at least had a clue!"

"I'm sorry." He sounded ashamed.

Snape angled his head to look up at the other boy, then reached and touched his cheek: "We'll figure it out together, all right? At least the basics... and beyond that, I'm sure there are books..."

Sirius grinned: "Do you think that's what's in the Restricted Section?"

They both laughed and Snape took this initiative this time, diving under the covers with a laugh while the memory swirled into...

  
Fog.

"Wow." said Hermione.

Ginny's eyes were bright with tears: "It happened, then. What Dumbledore had hoped to avoid. They destroyed each other...."

Harry gulped and nodded. "I... They're so... tender with each other, it's hard to think about...."

The boys were sitting at the breakfast table, with Mrs Flamel. It was mid-morning and Sirius apologised for their being so late. She smiled at them and told him not to worry, and that after breakfast they could just find Nicolas Flamel, who was out painting by the sea, and that he'd take them out on a fishing boat.

The memories sped up again, quick glimpses, Snape and Sirius on a boat, the sea so blue, Nicolas Flamel smiling. Lunch on the docks, of grilled fish freshly caught and Sirius burning his fingers by greedily grabbing some too soon. Then a long walk, holding hands, on the beach, stopping to pick up a shell or a rock, to kiss, or to just look out on the water.

Dinner was again at the Flamels' house.

"Sirius, Severus, Miranda" said Dumbledore, "Mr and Mrs Flamel have agreed to keep the three of you here, if you'd like, over the rest of break."

The two boys looked at each other, quickly, and smiled shyly. They nodded.

"Splendid!" said Dumbledore, "I'll clear it with your parents. Miranda?"

She hesitated, then shook her head regretfully: "Thank you for inviting me, Mrs Flamel, Mr Flamel. I... I really would love to stay, but... I've been neglecting my studies over the past few months and I need to get back to Hogwarts and start working on preparing for N.E.W.T.s." She turned to the Headmaster: "I've been very silly, Sir, about Stephen. It's over and I'm not going to waste my time sobbing over him anymore. What I learned these past few days, about plotting and mapping, and what the Muggles are doing in space... I know I have loads to learn. Thank you."

Dumbledore smiled at her: "Miranda and I will leave tomorrow morning, then."

  
Fog.

Early morning light was peeking through the shutters as Dumbledore, silent as a ghost, slipped into Sirius and Snape's bedroom. He left an envelope and a money purse on a table, then walked over to the bed, looking down at the two sleeping boys. They were curled together, like two puppies in a basket, black hair mingled, limbs entwined. Snape's face was relaxed in sleep, almost happy, and Sirius’s long lashes cast shadows on his cheeks. Dumbledore murmured something so soft and they had to lean in to catch it: "Good luck," he'd said, before leaving as quietly as he came.

  
Fog.

"Oh Circe!" moaned Snape. "He was in here, which means he saw...."

"Oh, come on, Severus! He's not dumb, he's gotta know we're fucking."

Snape groaned.

Sirius pursed his mouth and mused: "Though, technically, we're not really. At least not yet."

Snape whimpered and Sirius laughed: "Get over it, Severus. He knows what's ummm... up."

Snape whimpered again and Sirius laughed and lunged over at the other boy.

  
Fog.

Again the memories came fast, quick scenes. Breakfasts with Nicolas and Perenelle Flamel, helping with dishes. Walks on the beach, wading, splashing. A few boat trips. Walks in the countryside, watching Nicolas Flamel paint horrible landscapes in garish colours. Working with the older wizard in his lab.

A ride on Nicolas Flamel's old, ancient Vespa, Sirius driving, Snape holding on behind him, to a nearby Muggle village, where they bought ice cream and walked through the streets, holding hands, oblivious to the nervous stares of the locals. Riding back, fast, faster, faster, Snape hiding his face and Sirius hopping off in front of little stone house and whopping with joy, his cheeks red from the winter wind: "That was incredible! As soon as I can, I'm getting one of these, only faster, and I'll charm it to fly!"

Their evenings seemed to be spent in the big room with the older people, chess games in various pairings, reading. Sirius helped Perenelle Flamel wind up yards and yards of yarn, holding the hanks as she wound them into balls.

They didn't know how much of the memory editing was due to Dumbledore and how much was due to Snape not showing him everything, but enough was hinted at that they could tell that the two boys were happily and closely intimate, exploring each other, and their sexuality. Hermione, her voice hoarse, commented on how careful they seemed to be of each other and the others all nodded.

  
Fog.

Breakfast table. Nicolas Flamel was speaking: "So it's back to Hogwarts tomorrow. I have to say, I'll miss having both of you here, it's been a great pleasure for both of us."

Perenelle agreed and turned to Severus, a smile on her face: "And Albus told us it was your birthday. We'll have cake and ice cream tonight!"

Severus blushed and Sirius grinned.

"Do you have any plans today?"

Sirius answered: "We were going to walk along the cliffs, then down to the little cove."

Perenelle nodded: "That's a pretty beach. I shall pack you a picnic lunch! My, I must be getting old... It seems too cold to me out there and the two of you wandering around with no cloaks on!"

Ron snickered then that no cloaks on wasn't that bad, it was when they got to no clothes on that you had to wonder about them.

  
Fog.

They were sitting under a large fig tree, Sirius with his back on the trunk, Severus leaning on him. Sirius’s arm held the other boy close.

"I love you."

Snape closed his eyes at the other boy's words, a mix of joy and fear on his face. He was quiet for a long time, then, his voice gentle, he whispered back: "I love you too."

  
Fog.

The sun was lower and Sirius shivered and pulled Snape closer. Then they both stood and walked over to a low rock wall and looked out at the sea shimmering with the light of the setting sun.

He took something out of his pocket and handed it to Snape. "Happy Birthday," he said.

It was a rock, flat, perfectly round and dark black. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny all looked at each other and Hermione sighed. They'd all seen that rock before. It had been on Snape's desk for... well, probably as long as he'd been at Hogwarts, black and smooth, he'd used it to weigh down papers. Hermione recalled, suddenly, seeing him touch it often. She'd never thought about it before but she bit her lip, remembering his long fingers running over it. Sirius. He'd... She bit her lip again, harder, and turned her attention back to the memory.

"And let me show you." Sirius took the rock back from Snape and licked it.

"Yuck!" said Snape, but Sirius laughed and showed him.

Right at the center of the disk, the wetness had brought out a different striation that couldn't been seen when the rock was dry. It was almost a perfect heart.

Snape blinked. Sirius kissed him.

  
Fog.

Entrance Hall at Hogwarts, early morning, students everywhere. Snape had walked in from the dungeons, at exactly the same time as James Potter, his arm around Sirius Black's shoulders, had come from Gryffindor Tower. Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew followed them.

"Snivellus!" said James happily. "What a pleasant surprise! First day back and here you are!"

Snape didn't say anything. He'd stopped, instantly wary.

"I hear poor Sirius had to spend his break with you," sighed James. "I think you should have gone home to whatever rathole you came from instead."

Snape's eyes darted to Sirius but he remained silent and started to turn away. Sirius opened his mouth to speak, but James' voice rang out: "You know, Sniv, I thought about you a lot over break! I even created a brand new spell, just for you. Named it after you too."

Snape backed away, but James was ready. He pulled out his wand and quickly cast: "Severus!"

Snot, multicoloured, iridescent snot, started pouring from Snape's nose, shining slimily on his robes, quickly pooling on the floor in front of him. His mouth hung open and he was frozen in horror and shame.

Students were laughing, giggles, guffaws. James slapped Sirius’s shoulder and chortled: "Good one, isn't it?"

Harry swallowed. He knew what was going to happen, they all did, but it didn't make it any easier to see.

Sirius’s voice, loud, robust: "Great one James! Severus indeed!"

Trailing rainbow snot after him, Snape turned and ran.

  
Fog.

The sobs were heart rending. He lay on his bed, they could see his hand clutching the rock Sirius had given him, as he cried. The snot shimmered in the dim light.

  
Fog.

Entrance Hall again. Dinnertime. Snape came up from the dungeons, his head held high, his eyes dead, a bitter set to his mouth that would never leave him. They all shivered. Sirius had totally destroyed the boy from before... not just the happy one from Sicily, but even the other one, just disagreeable and teetering on the edge of going bad.

Slughorn saw him: "You skipped classes today, Mister Snape."

"Yes, Sir."

"Very well. You will be in detention every Saturday morning until the end of term, and there will be no Hogsmeade trips either."

Snape shrugged: "Whatever, Sir," and he turned away.

Slughorn's voice was squeaky and angry: "Detention Wednesday evenings as well."

Snape shrugged again and walked into the Great Hall.

  
Fog.

Dumbledore walked, silent, into the Slytherin dorm. He glanced at Avery, in the bed next to Snape's, at MacNair on the other side. He stood for a long time looking down at the dark, thin boy, tears dried on his face, his mouth set in a frown. One hand was hidden under his pillow and they all knew what it held.

A tear ran down Dumbledore's cheek and his voice was very quiet as he said: "Sirius... how could you?"

  
Fog.

  
**Part 2**

The torment was constant, the ante upped each time they encountered each other, the beautiful popular boy from Gryffindor, the dark, greasy unlikable Slytherin. Hexes and minor curses, potions ruined in class, ink spilled on essays. The cruelty seemed to escalate as well, the insults nastier and nastier. There was nothing left of the two boys who had cared about each other, their hatred was searing.

Images, as well, of Snape, in the dark in his bed, under the covers, Lumos cast on his wand, practicing a spell non-verbally over and over. They all realised what spell it was when he hissed in triumph as a cut appeared on his own hand. More nights, and the cuts got deeper and more numerous, yet the boy never seemed to flinch at the pain.

  
Fog.

Harry cringed as they glided into the next memory. It was the Great Hall and Snape was taking his DADA O.W.L. exam. The memory unfolded, the same one he'd seen that fateful night in Snape's office. There were James and the Snitch, and Sirius, handsome and bored.

The Impedimenta. James' Scourgify. Lily's intervention, and Harry heard Hermione's "Good for her!" and Ginny's agreement. They all cringed at Snape's non-verbal Sectumsempra and at James' paralysis curse . Lily's second intervention, stronger than the first, then Snape's insult, which made Hermione wince.

Harry was sick to his stomach from all of it.

Then James' threat to take off Snape's pants. Harry didn't know what happened next.

James Potter used his wand to remove the greying pants from the boy. There were twenty or so students around, staring. A flick of the wand and the pants flew 30feet into the air and got caught on a branch, flapping in the gentle breeze.

Laughter from all around, especially, it seemed, from Peter Pettigrew.

They all looked at Sirius. He had the decency to look slightly ashamed.

Snape's white, skinny arse was exposed and James spun him around slowly a few times so everyone could get an eyeful of both arse and cock.

Snape wasn't speaking anymore. He seemed to have retreated into himself. Catatonic thought Hermione. His eyes were closed, though further inspection showed tears leaking out, glistening on the dark eyelashes.

James took the Snitch out of his pocket and grinned at his audience. "Think we should shove this up Snivellus's arsehole?" he asked.

Harry thought he was going to throw up and he looked at Sirius, who looked like he was going to throw up too.

The other students were getting into it: "Do it!" hollered one boy. "Fuck him with the Snitch!" screamed another.

It was Remus's voice, calm and forceful for such a frail boy, that calmed the mob: "James. That's enough."

"Aw, come on Moony!" whined James.

"James. That is enough," repeated the smaller boy and James shrugged and released the spell and Snape fell straight to the ground, hitting his head hard. It started to bleed and he lay there, motionless, while James wandered off, followed by his usual cohort of friends and wanna-bes.

The memory was fuzzy there, probably because of Snape's being unconscious or very close to it.

Two boys approached the prone figure. Avery and MacNair. Harry shuddered. MacNair, even back then, had a look of cruelty about him that was frightening. They dragged him to a more secluded area, behind some mulberry bushes.

Sirius’s voice, hesitant: "Severus? Severus?"

MacNair put his hand over Snape's mouth, though Snape had shown no sign of planning on yelling.

The next minutes were blurred, Dumbledore sparing them the full visual of what happened next: the two Slytherins raped their housemate. He said, twice: "No, don't!" but they paid no heed and he was quiet after that.

Tears were running down Hermione's face, when suddenly Ron grabbed her arm and pointed over towards the path. A much younger Lucius Malfoy was rushing over, grabbing Avery and MacNair, casting a nasty curse on them. He helped Snape stand, pulled down his robes and got him back to the castle. Malfoy looked around the Entrance Hall and then made a quick decision, heading, Harry realised, to the Prefects Bathroom.

"Good," he said, as he helped Snape, barely conscious, inside, "They haven't changed the password since I left."

He helped the other boy clean up, handed him towels as he mopped the blood from his head and the blood that was pouring down his legs. Snape shifted to ease the pressure on his very painful arse and couldn't prevent a whimper from escaping.

"It does hurt, I know. Even when it's consensual. Bleeds too." said Malfoy sympathetically.

Snape blurted: "It didn't hurt that much. Or bleed. For either of us." He blushed and dropped his eyes.

Lucius Malfoy looked at the younger boy and said softly: "You must have been very careful with each other, then."

Snape looked up, and tears spilled out of his eyes. Lucius Malfoy stood up and started an inane conversation with Myrtle, leaving the other boy some privacy. When Snape has calmed down somewhat, he turned back to him: "And now we go see Dumbledore and Slughorn. They may have been Slytherins, but that was..."

"No!"

"What do you mean, no?"

"No. I'm not going to see Dumbledore or Slughorn. No."

"But Snape, Severus... What they did was... unacceptable."

"No. What James Potter and Sirius Black did was unacceptable."

  
Fog.

Malfoy Manor. Severus Snape was there, with Lucius, Avery and MacNair. The Lestranges. Regulus Black. Avery and MacNair were obvious scared of Snape and he made the most of it.

  
Fog.

They recognised Snape's house in Spinner's End, though with less books, and much dirtier. A nasty looking man, that Harry remembered from the time he'd managed to break Snape's defenses, was beating the boy, kicking him, and Snape ended up cowering in a corner.

A sharp knock at the door and the man went to open, his eyes widening at the sight of Perenelle Flamel, in a gauzy mauve robe, her hair white and her face soft and her voice cold and hard as steel, as she, essentially, told Tobias Snape that his son was coming with her for a visit and that he'd not be back before school started. She turned to Snape: "Get your trunk."

He hesitated, and she smiled at him: "Go, please. Nicolas can't wait to see you," and he ran.

  
Fog.

He was walking back to the little stone house, matching his steps to the slower ones of Nicolas Flamel. It was late afternoon and they were carrying provisions from the village, fresh bread, some wine. They walked around the house to the terrace and Snape stopped dead in his tracks, as Sirius Black and Albus Dumbledore both stood.

He looked as if he were going to faint, pale as a sheet. They could all see as he started to tremble, as Perenelle Flamel walked over and took him gently by the arm, led him to a chair. Dumbledore's overly gregarious greetings, Sirius’s mumbled "Hey."

And still he said nothing. There were conversations going on, but all that Harry and the others could hear was a loud relentless buzzing. Hermione realised what was happening and whispered: "It's Severus' memory, not Dumbledore's. He's pretty freaked out and that is really what he remembers."

  
Fog.

"I put them in separate bedrooms this time, Albus." said Perenelle Flamel, "Severus is not doing too well, I think."

Dumbledore sighed: "I know. They... no... Sirius hurt him terribly, Perenelle. I don't know if any of this is salvageable. I just know we have to try."

"What has happened?" asked Nicolas Flamel.

"Sometimes, someone who doesn't seem to have it in them performs an act of kindness that touches deeply. A young man named Lucius Malfoy, who is part of Tom Riddle's organisation, did just that for Severus. Sirius, and the other boy who is involved in all this, James Potter, had apparently abused him quite mercilessly and it had.... consequences. Lucius showed up and picked up the pieces."

"Ah," said Nicolas Flamel, "Earning himself loyalty, then, and perhaps leading someone younger and more confused astray."

"Yes. Though to his credit, Mister Malfoy did come tell me everything."

"Is it too late, Albus?" asked Perenelle.

Dumbledore sighed: "I don't think it's too late. At least... I hope it isn't."

  
Fog.

"Could the two of you go out to pick some figs for breakfast?" asked Perenelle, smiling at the two boys who were glaring at each other.

In the early morning sunlight, they walked down to the bottom of the garden, where the large fig tree stood, overhanging a low stone wall. Ignoring each other, they picked, ripe, beautiful purple figs, cool as the night. When the bowl was full neither made a move to pick it up and carry it back to the kitchen. Snape walked to the wall and sat down, his back to Sirius, staring out at the blue-green Mediterranean, his face set, as it often was now, in a bitter frown.

Sirius was biting his lip. His emotions showed and they could all see the guilt playing on his features. He hadn't been totally indifferent, then.

"Sirius! Severus! Breakfast!" Perenelle's voice jolted them out of their quiet. Sirius bent down to pick up the bowl, and Snape said: "Please tell them I'm not hungry."

Head hanging Sirius trudged back up the garden path.

  
Fog.

"I understand the animosity on Snape's part," said Ron, "But why was Sirius so pissed with him? I mean, none of this was Snape's fault, really."

"No," said Harry, "It was my dad's fault. I think... I think that Sirius did love my dad... not that way, but as a best friend, like a brother, and that he resented that Snape made him feel like... my dad was a jerk, or something."

Ginny sighed: "That makes sense. He was confused. And Sirius never dealt with confused well."

"Look! Dumbledore!" said Hermione.

Dumbledore sat down next to the thin boy on the stone wall.

"So, Severus," he said.

"I want to go home."

"No."

"But Sir!..."

"Severus... please. I know this is not ideal for you, and maybe we should have warned you that Sirius was coming at well... but I'd really appreciate it if you would both stay here."

"We're never going to be friends, Sir."

Dumbledore sighed. "I'm sorry about what happened."

Snape's laugh was harsh.

"No, I am. I... I am supposed to protect you, and all the students at the school, and I failed miserably last June. I have no excuse."

Snape looked at him quickly. "It wasn't your fault, Sir. It was Potter and Black and then Avery and MacNair... took advantage."

"It was my fault, Severus. Please allow me to accept blame for not taking better care."

Snape shrugged.

"And Severus?" Snape looked at him. "He knew you would be here. And he left James Potter's house to come join us. Don't assume that Sirius doesn't care about what happened. He is very confused."

"Confused? About what? That James Potter is an arrogant arsehole?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Mister Potter is... like Mister Black. Utterly devoted to those he loves and has no use for anyone else. I agree that his behaviour was out of line, but he isn't an evil person. Think about that."

Snape shrugged again and Dumbledore, as Sirius had before, slowly trudged back to the house.

  
Fog.

They were forced to endure each other. Dumbledore left the next day, and the two boys integrated, unwillingly on both sides, it seemed, to the rhythm of the Flamel household, meals, and walks and evenings spent on the terrace, while Perenelle Flamel spun a fine yarn unlike any they had ever seen before and that later Dumbledore's portrait would tell them was the thread used to make Invisibility Cloaks. There were a few picnics on the beach and visits to nearby villages to shop and for the occasional ice cream.

Snape retreated often to the bottom of the garden, under the fig tree and they mostly respected his privacy.

Sirius came one evening and sat down next to him. Only a slight tightening of Snape's posture indicated that he'd heard the other boy. The moon was high, it's light shimmering over the water and the singing of cicadas was loud enough that they almost missed Sirius’s speaking.

"I'm sorry," he said.

With that, he stood and left. Snape sat, staring out at the water.

  
Fog.

"We'll be going to Paris overnight," said Nicolas, "We have some business to attend there. Would either of you like to come with us?"

Snape looked up from the book he was reading, and slowly shook his head: "I'd rather stay here, if that is all right with you."

Perenelle smiled at him: "Of course it is. And you, Sirius?"

He was looking at Snape and he closed his eyes: "I'll stay," he said, and Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny all let out the breath they didn't know they'd been holding.

  
Fog.

Snape came inside, in the gathering dusk. The house was dark and quiet and he jumped when Sirius said: "I made dinner."

Snape shrugged. "I'm not hungry."

"Fine." There was anger in Sirius’s tone. He flicked on every single light he could, defiantly.

He dished himself up some of... whatever it was that he was eating, it was hard to tell... eggs, perhaps? He ate two bites, and tears started to drip down his face. He cried silently, as he stood and threw his food in the bin. He walked to the window and looked out into the darkness, his face wet.

Snape looked at him, and back down at his hands.

A long while later Sirius went to clean up the kitchen, as quiet as he could, and Snape took his place at the window. When Sirius came back, he took a deep breath and steeled himself. He walked over to the other boy and gently put a hand on Snape's upper arm.

Neither boy moved for a bit. Then very slowly, Sirius ran his hand down Snape's arm then back again. Snape was biting his lip, it would bleed, but he didn't move away.

Sirius leaned over and hesitantly, kissed the nape of Snape's neck. Snape's breath was coming faster and his eyes were closed. His face showed it all: he was defeated. He couldn't stop this.

His voice was controlled, however, when he hissed: "Desperate, Black?"

Sirius took a deep breath and said quietly: "Yes. But not... not in the way you think. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I... went back to see if you needed help, but you were gone."

Snape's voice held resignation: "I crawled under some bushes, to keep safe."

Sirius sighed, relief evident on his face. "I was worried. I... I'm so..."

Snape turned around and looked at the taller boy and Harry saw on his face the same fierce protectiveness that he'd had when he'd sacrificed himself, to save them all. He'd never tell Sirius what had happened. He'd spare Sirius. No matter what else, no matter the hatred that was probably mingled with it, no matter that he didn't want to, he loved Sirius.

They stood for a long time, there, wordless, not touching, until Snape slowly reached out to Sirius cheek and whispered: "Let's go to bed."

  
Fog.

It wasn't the sweetness that they'd shared previously. This was tinged with desperation and inevitability. They -Snape especially- might not have wanted all that was between them to occur, but they had no choice, something in them spun them together, out of control.

There was, still, some of the happiness, the laughter. Under Nicolas and Perenelle's indulgent eyes, they rebuilt some of the relationship they'd had. A boy they met down in the village taught them to swim and Snape quickly learned to brew sunburn prevention and relieving potions. Sirius was a beautiful golden brown, making his grey eyes and black hair even more striking, but Snape stayed the same ivory white, unless he burned, in which case he turned bright red. (Ron and Ginny whimpered in sympathy.) They helped out on one of the fishing boats a few times, Sirius surprisingly squeamish. They rode Nicolas Flamel's old Vespa all around the island, visiting Palermo and Catania, ancient temples and Mt Etna, Sirius in front, hair whipping behind him in the wind, Snape holding on tightly.

And somehow, the bitter set to Snape's mouth eased.

"This time... I'm going to tell James, and Remus. And Peter too," said Sirius, quietly, one evening as they were sitting under the fig tree, in the dark.

Snape didn't answer for a long time. "No, you won't," he finally said.

"What do you mean?"

"You won't. James hates me, and he means more to you than I do. You won't."

"That's not true!"

"Yes it is. I know it. Just... just leave it be, Sirius. What we have is this, here. In secret, just us. Don't try and bring it out into the open, it'll just hurt both of us."

Sirius, angry, stalked back up to the house. They didn't bring the subject up again.

  
Fog.

They were kissing, rubbing against he each other, moans hushed and hurried, in an empty classroom.

"I'll see you in the library after classes tomorrow," said Sirius. Snape nodded.

  
Fog.

Snape was sitting in the Hogwarts library, a book open in front of him. There were other students around and they could all hear an occasional "click/whirr" that none of them identified right away.

Snape looked over to his right and the followed his gaze. Lily Evans had walked over, carrying both a camera and a large book. She stopped when she saw Snape and she had a look of distaste on her face.

Beet red, Snape stood up and walked over to her. He looked quickly at her then said: "Ev... Miss Evans. I... I'm sorry."

She looked surprised. He was staring at his feet and continued: "I... just... I really am sorry for calling... well... you know."

She looked at him: "That's all right. Thanks for apologising." She smiled. "Maybe we can work on Slughorn's extra credit assigments together? They're going to be hard."

He looked both surprised and pleased and he nodded. He went to sit back down and she put her book away on a nearby shelf.

She'd picked up the camera to take a photo of the "Restricted Section" sign when Sirius walked over. Snape looked up at him, and smiled, the smile lighting up his face, as he looked at Sirius who was smiling too. Neither boy seemed to notice when Lily snapped the photo of Snape, before quietly leaving, wondering if she'd just really seen what she thought she had. None of them seemed to notice Peter Pettigrew either, hiding behind some shelves, and a foreboding shiver ran down Harry's spine.

  
Fog.

"What the fuck, Snape?"

Snape tensed and he looked at Sirius: "What?"

"Are you trying to advertise to the whole school that we're fucking?"

"What?"

"Evans got a photo of you, mooning at me." Snape blushed. "Yeah, well it's all over the Gryffindor Common Room... Damn it, Snape, can't you be a bit more discrete?"

Snape looked down at his book, and Sirius stalked out of the library. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny noticed that Peter Pettigrew was again hiding nearby.

  
Fog.

"I can't meet you tonight. Tomorrow will be better."

"Very well. Where?"

Sirius leaned in and whispered: "Meet me by the Whomping Willow......"

  
Fog.

The next memory was sketchy and they knew Dumbledore had again spared them. The night trek down to the Whomping Willow, Remus Lupin in Werewolf form, James Potter's rescue. Snape, almost crazy with fear and pain being forced to drink a Dreamless Sleep Potion in the Infirmary.

  
Fog.

"Why, Mister Black? Why did you ever tell Mister Snape to meet you down there?"

Sirius was hanging his head. He looked at Dumbledore, and his voice was desperate: "I needed to prove to James that I didn't care about him. Peter told James that Snape had a crush on me, and that I had one on him and James said he couldn't be my friend if I was in love with Snape. I had to prove to him that I wasn't.... I thought I'd be in time to save him, I hadn't planned on Slughorn..." Dumbledore hissed. "Professor Slughorn catching me and not letting me go... but James got there in time and...."

"Mister Black, go to your dormitory. I... I am very disappointed in you."

Sirius nodded, his face finally showing some shame. "May I stop by the Infirmary, Sir?"

"To see Mister Snape?"

Sirius nodded, staring as his feet and Dumbledore sighed: "No, you may not, Mister Black. I doubt Mister Snape will ever want to see you again, and frankly I can't blame him. Go straight to Gryffindor Tower. We will deal with the matter of your punishment later, when I can stand to look at you."

  
Fog.

Lily Evans entered Dumbledore's office, she was obviously upset.

"Miss Evans. Professor McGonagall said you wanted to see me?"

"Yes Sir."

"What can I help you with?"

"I think it's my fault!"

"What, Miss Evans?"

"I know what happened, I guessed. I think it's because of me."

"Why? I know you and Mister Snape have been working together these past few weeks, but that doesn't mean..."

She cut him off. "No, not that. I mean, yes, we're... getting to be friends. No, a few weeks back, I took this photograph.... and Peter Pettigrew stole it and showed it to James Potter and he and Sirius had a fight."

Crying, she handed him the photograph and they could all see it was the one on the office wall. Dumbledore looked at it for a long time.

"He looked up and saw Sirius, and his face just lit up and I had my camera. Pettigrew saw it too, and when he went through my bag and.... It's all my fault."

Dumbledore looked up at her. "No, Miss Evans, it is most certainly not your fault. Mister Black is responsible, no matter what. Mister Potter, while certainly insensitive, is not to be blamed either." He sighed. "May I keep this, Miss Evans?"

She nodded and he slipped the photograph into his desk: "I have a sad feeling that nobody will see a smile like that one on Severus' face ever again," he said quietly.

She stook to leave, tears still shimmering in her green eyes. "Miss Evans?"

"Sir?"

"If you could... I am pretty sure Mister Snape would welcome... a friendly visit."

  
Fog.

Snape's face, cold, desolate and totally closed. Emotionally flayed. Bitter. Old before his time. Working to build the walls that would ensure that nobody else would ever be able to hurt him. Not quite sure if he wanted to continue, seemingly believing that death was a better deal than the raw pain that was his life.

Lily Evans ignored the walls, ignored the initial rejection. Harry was proud of the young woman his mother had been, as they watched her anchor Severus Snape back to life, watched as she forcibly befriended him and lightly comforted him and helped him survive.

  
Fog.

Dumbledore's office. Sirius reluctantly and with a total lack of sincerity apologising to Snape. James Potter smugly accepting Snape's acknowledgment of a life debt.

And worse than anything, the tone of betrayal in Snape's voice when he said: "Lupin isn't being expelled and Black tried to kill me and he's not even getting detention?"

  
Fog.

Christmas time again. Snape, at what they quickly figured out was Malfoy Manor, interacting with people they recognised as the younger versions of many Death Eaters.

He went to visit Lily. He tried to talk with her, seriously, about some things, but her sister, Petunia, wouldn't leave them be, insisting on chaperoning.

"No, Lily! You two cannot stay in here alone! Mother and Father would be most unhappy, they weren't too pleased to find out you'd spent all day yesterday snogging that Potter boy!"

Snape looked at Lily, dismay on his face. He left shortly thereafter.

He was at Hogwarts, arguing with Slughorn, in the Entrance Hall.

"But I need to see Professor Dumbledore, Sir!"

"I'm sure he doesn't want to see you, Snape."

"Please, Sir. I really need to see him!"

"I'll check Snape. Wait here."

Slughorn left, came back quickly: "As I expected, he doesn't have time for you. Now go back to Malfoy Manor, why don't you! I don’t understand what Lucius wants to do with a slum rat like you but if it makes him happy!"

Late at night, in an opulent bedroom, he was writing a letter. It started out: "Dear Mister Flamel,..."

  
Fog.

Lucius Malfoy toasting Snape, wishing him a Happy 17th Birthday.

Snape standing in front of Voldemort, the Dark Mark being branded onto his left forearm. His face impassive.

Snape in bed, crying, his right hand clutching something under the pillow. They all could guess what it was.

  
Fog.

"Albus!"

"Nicolas, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Have you heard from Severus?"

Albus shook his head. "No, unfortunately he elected to spend Christmas at Malfoy Manor..."

"He wrote me. I just got the letter today because he told the owl to go to my house in Paris, or the one in Italy, and Perenelle and I have been travelling in Indonesia..."

He handed Dumbledore a piece of parchment and the Headmaster quickly read it. When he looked up, his face was sad and there were tears in his eyes: "I lost him. It's my fault. I failed him."

  
Fog.

They were dumped out of the memory, then. Dumbledore's portrait was empty, and it was very late, -actually, it was very early-. A tray with food and pumpkin juice was on the desk and they all helped themselves... and they all sat there, staring at the food, unable to eat, though they did manage to drink their pumpkin juice.

"That was... hard," said Ginny, her voice very quiet.

"My dad... my dad was a jerk."

But Hermione shook her head: "No, Harry. It was what Muggles call a Perfect Storm. Not a single one of these things should have caused the catastrophe that they did, but they all happened, and fed on each other. And considering how wonderful you mum was, I'm guessing your dad changed a lot after the Werewolf thing."

"Sirius...."

"Poor Sirius. He suffered for everything, remember."

"They all did," said Ron. "Nobody came out happy and alive, not even Remus."

"There is more. I don't know that I want to see much more." sighed Harry.

  
They dropped back into the memory. Sybill Trelawney giving the prophecy. Snape running away. They all felt sick. Snape giving the prophecy to Voldemort.

Snape looked... like an animated corpse. There was no gleam in his eyes, little colour on his face. He seemed to be going through the mechanics of living, but not the emotions.

Snape in Diagon Alley, a chance meeting with a very pregnant Lily Potter. The smile, hesitant and rusty, on his face when he saw her.

They went to Florian Fortescue's. Snape spoke little, really, but Lily chattered away, giving him news of their classmates, of James. Snape seemed totally stunned by the light conversation, but very pleased nonetheless.

As her ice cream and his tea came , he finally made the obvious comment: "Congratulations," he said, nodding at her beautiful pregnant belly.

She smiled, pure delight. "Thank you. I'm due end of July and it can't come one minute too soon."

Every single bit of colour drained from his pale face: "End of July?" His voice was hoarse.

She nodded. "Yes, the 31st actually."

She looked slightly puzzled as he abruptly left her, saying good bye quickly and as if he weren't really paying attention.

  
Fog.

He looked so young, at 20, walking up to the castle from Hogsmeade. He looked scared and tormented.

The scene with Dumbledore was everything they could have expected. Remorse. Tears. Confusion. And despair.

There was no compassion in Dumbledore's dealing with Snape. None. He was curt and almost cruel. It made their hearts ache.

"I'll do anything. I don't want her hurt, and I don't want her baby hurt."

"It's James Potter's baby as well."

A look of intense loathing came over Snape's face. "I know. I don't care about him, but I don't want Lily hurt."

  
Fog.

A meeting with James, Lily with Baby Harry, Dumbledore and Snape, where Dumbledore, in a quiet voice, told James and Lily everything and Snape's role in it. James's rage was frightening to behold but Snape sat motionless, a look of total and utter shame and misery on his face.

When he finally said: "I should have let Remus kill you that night!" Snape flinched and both Lily and Dumbledore protested. But Snape said, his voice emotionless said: "You should have. I died anyhow."

Later, James left, he had Order business, and Snape looked at Dumbledore and said, begging: "Please, Sir. Please let me."

As Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny watched, Snape made an Unbreakable Vow to Lily, with Albus Dumbledore at the bonder. He swore to her that he would protect Harry with his life.

Lily's death, it seemed, did not relieve Snape of the Vow.

  
Fog.

The next part was done in quick images and pieces, since they already knew all about it: Dumbledore's portrait had told them, four years ago, of how Snape had come to be working for him and how they'd organised themselves: Snape working as a double agent, Dumbledore offering him the Potions job. The dangers. The fear. The total and utter loneliness.

What Dumbledore showed them as well as how the two men slowly began to trust each other again, Snape's devotion and his loyalty.

Ginny said softly, as they watched the older wizard and the younger one talk late one night about protecting the Potters: "They were all the same, really. James, and Sirius and Severus. Loyal to a fault." Harry blinked away tears.

  
Fog.

"Severus! Or should I say Professor Snape?!" said Lily brightly, a dark-haired Harry on her hip as she opened the door. "Come in and tell me what it's like to be the youngest professor Hogwarts has ever had, as well as the Head of Slytherin House!"

They talked, baby Harry playing on the ground on a blanket, while the adults drank tea. Snape held the boy a few times, and Harry couldn't quite analyse the strange feeling of seeing himself bounced on Snape's knee and seeing Snape laugh as Harry pulled his hair and tweaked his nose. They understood that, in some way, this was the happiest Snape ever was, during those years.

"So, Severus... Now that you are professor and all that, what's with your love life?"

Snape started and his eyes bugged.

"Oh, come on, Severus! You can stay alone forever! Surely you..."

He was starting intently at the tea leaves in the bottom of his cup. She sighed: "There's never been anyone else, has there?"

His laugh was bitter. "No. And there won't be."

"Severus! How can you say things like that?"

He looked at her and then back at his tea cup: "I'll never let anyone else hurt me like that again."

She sighed. Even baby Harry seemed to have picked up on the chill.

His finger was rolling over a crumb on the table, crushing it. He looked up at her quickly, through his hair: "Is he happy?"

She opened her mouth to answer, when the front door slammed open. They both jumped up, defensive, wands out.

"Lily? You there?"

It was Sirius and seconds later he was in the kitchen, sweeping Lily up in a massive hug and tossing Harry up in the air while the little boy laughed. It was Sirius, loud, more beautiful than before, even, in tight leather trousers, a leather jacket, his hair long and unruly. Sirius, who in less than a month would be thrown into Azkaban to rot away the rest of his youth.

Snape had pulled back from the other three, a look of total panic on his face.

Sirius seemed to sense him and turned. They stared at each other.

Lily's voice was squeaky when she took Harry from Sirius and babbled: "I think this little guy needs a clean nappy...." and rushed from the room.

They just stood there, frozen, Snape in horror, Sirius in shock.

Snape opened his mouth to speak, but never got to because Sirius had closed the distance between the two of them, reached out and put his hand on Snape's arm. He slowly ran it down the arm, just barely touching Snape's hand, then back again, resting it on the shoulder and he used that grip to pull Snape to him. Snape's eyes were closed, and the outcome was inevitable.

"Lil..." Sirius’s voice broke. "Lily," he tried again, "We're going to... umm... get a pint at the nearest pub."

She called from the top of the stairs: "Fine, have fun! See you at dinner on Sunday, Sirius?"

  
Fog.

A bed, in a messy room, probably Sirius’s flat in London. Two men, desperate for each other. Most of the memories were blurred, but Dumbledore left them with the image of the two wizards, after sex, in bed together, Sirius holding Snape and gently stroking his back. Content.

  
Fog.

Dumbledore scolding young Professor Snape, reminding him that sneaking off the grounds after hours and slipping back in just before dawn was not responsible behaviour for a teacher.

Snape grinned -grinned!- and said: "Yes, Sir, it won't happen again."

  
Fog.

Dumbledore shaking his head, more amused than angry as Sirius Black slunk through the hallways of Hogwarts Castle, obviously lost as he attempted to find the dungeons and Snape's quarters.

"Down the stairs, second hallway to the right, Mister Black," he said, causing Sirius to jump at least one foot into the air, and Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny to laugh.

  
Fog.

"I love you."

"I know. I love you too."

  
Fog.

"Leave Lily alone! Please don't hurt her! And it will do you no good to hurt Harry, he isn't...."

"Silence!" shrieked Voldemort. "Crucio!"

As soon as he could stand again, Snape grabbed the piece of paper with the location of the Potter's latest hiding place, and Apparated there, following Voldemort.

It was sickening. Harry knew what he was going to see... only they didn't. Because Dumbledore, again mindful of painful subjects, blurred the memories he knew would be too painful.

Snape running past Voldemort as he finished killing James, screaming at Lily to take Harry and run, that he'd hold him off.

Snape, seconds later, on his hands and knees begging. Begging for Lily's life, for Harry's, for Lily's again.

Voldemort's Freezing Charm, leaving Snape paralysed, back to the wall, tears running down his face.

Voldemort giving Lily that fateful choice and Lily refusing.

The memory blurred. They didn't have to see Lily being killed, were spared the full impact of Snape's desperate "No!"

When Voldemort was... weakened, Snape crawled over to the baby, to the baby with a scar on his forehead, picked him up and help him close. They both cried. Snape's voice was very low when he spoke to the little baby, promised him he'd protect him, no matter what, that he'd keep him safe.

He took Harry to Hogwarts, to Dumbledore. He explained what he could, and Dumbledore sent him to take the baby back to Godric's Hollow, told him to await Hagrid there.

"Severus?"

"Sir?"

"How did... How did he find them?"

Snape took a deep breath: "Their Secret Keeper betrayed them." He looked at Dumbledore, his face pleading.

Dumbledore's voice was sad: "Their Secret Keeper was Sirius Black."

Snape nodded slowly, his eyes closed. He turned, picked up the baby, walked towards the door.

"Severus..."

"Don't. Please. There is nothing more to say."

  
Fog.

They were older now, no longer young men. Sirius’s beauty stripped away by the years in Azkaban, and the bitterness of Snape's life etched on his face.

Snape's desperate attempt to set the Dementors on Sirius Black. His rage when Black escaped. It was gut wrenching. This time, however, they realised that it was more than pure maliciousness on Snape's part.

"Why didn't Snape believe that Sirius was innocent? And want to kill him though?" asked Ron.

"Oh Ron!" said Hermione, "Sirius betrayed him so many times, he couldn't see how it could have happened any other way. He hated him because he not only thought he was responsible for Lily's death, but because... he'd betrayed him yet again."

The searing hatred between the two men, in the Hospital Wing, after Harry had gotten back from the cemetery at Little Hangleton. They all remembered that and reliving the memory made it even more vivid.

There was no need to go through the many interactions, most of them bitter and negative, between the two men during their 5th year, and indeed Dumbledore didn't.

  
Fog.

"Severus."

"Headmaster," said Snape looking up. He was in the Potions classroom, marking papers. They all noticed the rock on his desk, where it always was.

"I'm afraid I have some sad news to impart."

Snape was instantly wary.

"Nicolas and Perenelle have finally passed... I know they'd expected to much sooner but... well, it has happened."

Snape blinked, but didn't show any emotion. His voice, however, was rough when he spoke: "They were... good people."

"Yes, they were. I know you went to visit from time to time, and I know they deeply appreciated your friendship over the years."

Snape nodded. He reached out, and softly ran a fingertip over his rock.

"Severus?"

"Sir?"

"May I ask a favour of you?"

"Of course, Headmaster."

"Will you please... go to Grimmauld Place and tell Sirius?"

Snape tensed immediately and the harsh lines on his face deepened: "Why me?"

"Sirius is... is not doing too well. Remus Lupin isn't with him right now and I don't want to owl him with the bad news. I'm not sure you were aware but he did spend some time with Nicolas and Perenelle while he was on the run."

Snape shrugged. "But Sir... can't you go?"

Dumbledore shook his head: "I am getting concerned, Severus, about what Dolores is going to do next about our... secret society." Snape rolled his eyes. "I do not want to stray too far from the castle, in case they should... need me."

Snape sighed. "Very well, Sir. I'll go right away."

"Thank you, Severus."

  
Fog.

"He just could not stop meddling, could he?" asked Ginny rhetorically.

"Black."

"Snivellus! And to what do I owe the ummm... revolting fact of your visit?"

He was sitting on his bed, dressed, a bottle of firewhiskey nearby. The room was cold and too dark and Snape's look of disgust showed clearly how he felt about the whole situation. He cast a spell for the lights.

"Headmaster Dumbledore asked me to come."

"Did he now?"

Snape walked over to the window and played idly with the curtain pull for a few moments.

"Nicolas and Perenelle have both died," he said softly.

The tears sprang immediately to Sirius’s grey eyes, and quickly started running down his cheeks. He didn't appear to be ashamed of his pain and indeed Snape's eyes were glistening as well.

They were quiet for a long while, then Sirius slowly stood up and walked over to Snape. He took the other man in his arms and pulled him close. He guided him over to the bed. They fell asleep that way, holding each other.

Morning light was playing through the curtains when they woke up, in bed together, still dressed. They looked into each other's eyes and Snape made the first move, leaning over to kiss Sirius.

They kissed for a long time, learning each other's mouths again. Then Snape suddenly noticed the bedside clock, cursed and rolled out of bed: "I have a class in less than an hour," he said.

"Ah," said Sirius, sitting up.

Snape was quickly rearranging his clothes and when he was satisfied, he turned to Sirius, who was staring at his hands, looking unhappy and... sad.

"Sirius," he said softly, and the other man looked up, "I will be back."

Sirius grinned, something of his old self showing through: "Of course you will!" he said.

Snape nodded slowly: "It's not like we seem to have any choice in the matter..."

"I know. I'm sorry. I know."

  
Fog.

Snape was dressed in a black cloak, walking silently through the corridors at Hogwarts. He got to the Entrance Hall, heading towards the door.

"Professor Snape." It was Dumbledore, and no lights were turned on.

Snape hissed, in surprise, then quickly recovered. They all wished they could see his face. "Yes, Headmaster?"

"Please let me know if you are planning on leaving the school, and when you'll be back."

"Yes, Sir."

  
Fog.

From the images they were shown, it appeared that despite everything the two men managed to carve out some... some happiness with each other. Ginny commented quietly that they were probably never as alive as when they were together.

Dumbledore left the school and Umbridge took over.

Snape and Dumbledore met, late at night, with Sirius, in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place.

"Severus. One more thing. Except for unavoidable circumstances," he looked pointedly at Snape's left forearm, "I would rather you not leave the castle."

Snape blinked, but, as usual, complied: "Yes, Sir," he said.

Sirius opened his mouth to protest, but a look from Snape silenced him.

Dumbledore turned to Sirius: "I'm sorry, Sirius," he said.

Sirius shrugged but his shoulders slumped, and they could all see the defeated air about him.

  
Fog.

"Talk about kicking someone who was already down..." murmured Harry.

Snape looked up. There was an odd sound at his door. He went to open it, and a large black dog sauntered in, quickly and gracefully transforming into Sirius Black.

Neither man spoke. They just held each other for a long time, fear and stress slowly abating.

Sirius finally broke the silence: "How is Minerva?"

Snape shook his head: "They think she'll be all right... but it's going to be a few days at least..."

"And in the meanwhile, you're responsible for the school, worried and scared as hell."

Snape's laugh was sad: "Pretty much, yes."

Sirius resettled his arms around Snape and guided him over to the bed. They undressed and Sirius held the other man, gentle and protective and it was easy to see that it was what Snape needed.

  
Fog.

They were talking in the dark, only the light from the small fire lighting the room. In the bed, close. Snape's shoulders, pale, Sirius’s back, milky white.

"I'm scared."

"Of what?" Sirius kissed the other wizard's neck.

"I'm not sure... I feel... a sense of foreboding, as if terrible things are going to happen..."

Sirius snickered: "You sound like that Divination professor Harry's been telling me about. She predicts his death every few weeks or so."

Snape sighed: "Trelawney, yes. Still... I don't like this." He tightened his arms around Sirius: "Be careful... please be careful. Don't come back, don't do anything stupid... I... I can't lose you."

Sirius smiled in the semi darkness: "You won't lose me, you'll never lose me. This is it, Severus. You and me. Forever..." Snape's sighed but Sirius continued: "When it's all over and Harry has killed Voldemort" Snape shuddered. "I'm going to sell Grimmauld Place. I'm going to buy... a small house overlooking the Mediterranean, with lavender in the garden and a fig tree to sit under... We'll grow old together, Severus. Harry will come and visit... with his kids and that young witch, Cho or something."

Snape laughed softly: "Cho Chang. And if your dream comes true, it'll be Ginny Weasley, not Miss Chang."

"Oh?"

"Can't you see it? They... shine, when they're together. It's like..."

"Like you and me?"

Snape sighed: "That's what the Headmaster always said. That he could sense whatever it is between us from the first time he saw us together."

Sirius nodded: "Nicolas and Perenelle said the same thing. And yes, it's their house I'm planning on buying. Will you come to Sicily with me?"

Snape sighed: "If I survive... sure. Why not?"

Sirius heard something in the tone... scepticism, maybe.

"You don't think this is going to happen? Why? Do you think that we're both going to die... well, actually, we probably both are, but..." Suddenly he seemed to understand. "You don't think I'll tell Harry, do you?"

Snape's tone was light: "You have to admit, Sirius, you don't have the best track record of telling a Potter about us."

"I'm telling him this time. I'll write him a letter... that way he won't get it until after his O.W.L.s."

Snape shrugged: "It doesn't matter. It did then, now, it doesn't. As long as... as long as you... I..."

Sirius kissed the other man: "As long as we love each other."

Snape nodded.

"Yes, perhaps. But it matters to me. I'll write him."

Snape tightened his arms around the other man. "You need to get out of here. I do wish you had Potter's invisibility cloak right about now." He sighed. "It was nice having you here, if only for a few hours."

They waited until the first class of the day was in progress. There were some exams that morning and they walked the deserted corridors quickly, keeping to less used paths, and Snape had cast a charm that made Sirius less visible to anyone seeing them. At the statue of the witch they embraced quickly and Sirius leaned over and kissed Snape's lips: "I love you."

"I love you too. Take care of yourself."

Sirius nodded and moments later he was gone.

  
Fog.

Hermione and Ginny were crying, and Harry decided not to look too closely at Ron in case his eyes were as wet as Harry's own. They all knew what would happen that night.

Snape in Umbridge's office, Harry trying to communicate, Snape trying to let him know that he'd check... Snape rushing to his quarters and sending his Patronus, a large snake, to Grimmauld Place and sighing with relief when Sirius’s Padfoot bounded back. Looking for Harry. All over. Panic.

  
Fog.

  
Snape, stalking through the castle. It was early morning. He stopped near the stairway to Dumbledore's office, as he encountered Moody, Remus Lupin, Kingsley Shacklbolt, and Hestia Jones. Hestia was crying softly and Lupin looked devastated.

"The Headmaster said Potter was all right," said Snape. Dumbledore had firecalled him moments earlier.

Remus Lupin's voice was cold when he spoke to Snape: "So, did you do it on purpose?"

Snape shrugged: "What? Yet again prevent Potter from doing something stupid?"

"Not listening to him."

"I listened. He, alas, did not."

"Well, you're probably pretty pleased with the results then."

"Meaning? That he again put himself in danger? Of course not."

"No. But you've finally done it. You finally won."

"What are you talking about, Lupin?"

"You killed James, and now you've killed Sirius. I suppose I'm next? But maybe you'll spare Peter."

Snape had lied to Voldemort, keeping an impassive face. He'd looked at death more times than he cared to think of. Nothing showed on his face. Nothing.

"Black?"

Suddenly Remus started to cry, and Hestia Jones, still sobbing herself, patted him on the shoulder.

Moody glared at Snape: "Yes, Black. He died last night. And it's your fucking fault. If you'd..."

Dumbledore arrived then, he'd taken Harry to the hospital wing. The carefully indifferent look on his Potions master's face told him that Severus had already been given the news he'd hoped to break gently.

"Go to my office, Severus, I must talk to you. Alastor, go see Filch, he is getting a room ready for Remus. Miss Jones, could you please accompany them?"

They left. Dumbledore walked into his office. Snape was sitting on a chair, his head in his hands, working on composing himself. Dumbledore walked over to a window and stared out at the grounds in the early morning light.

Without looking at Snape, his voice gentle, he told him everything that had happened at the Ministry. Then he was quiet.

Albus Dumbledore walked from the window to the younger man, who hadn't moved. His harsh breathing was the only sound.

"Severus." The Headmaster said quietly, putting a hand on Snape's shoulder. Snape shrugged, and Dumbledore removed his hand.

"Don't touch me." The voice was tight.

Dumbledore nodded.

Snape stood: "May I leave, Headmaster?"

Sorrowfully, Dumbledore shook his head. "I need one more thing from you, Severus."

"What more? I've already lost..." He sighed: "Yes Headmaster?"

Dumbledore took a small blue vial and gently placed it on the edge of the desk. "I need your memories, Severus."

"Which ones?"

"You know which ones."

Snape took two steps back and in his voice was the panic of a wounded, cornered, animal: "No!"

"Please, Severus."

"No! You're going to show them to Potter. No. I can't. It's all I... We'd just..."

"Severus." The voice was gentle, but still relentless.

Snape's voice was angry, rising with each repetition: "No. No! No!!" He walked to the desk, grabbed the blue vial and threw it across the room, then swept the desk clean with his arm. His face was tortured, and Harry was unpleasantly reminded on their encounter as Snape had fled Hogwarts after murdering -killing- Dumbledore.

He fell into the chair.

"No," he said again, but this time it was almost a whimper.

Wordlessly, Dumbledore retrieved the vial, and put it back down on the desk.

"Severus." he said.

Defeated, Snape pulled his wand and began retrieving silvery memories. Tears were running down his face as he did, and Dumbledore kindly turned away.

"Severus."

The young man looked up.

"One more thing... I intercepted this this morning." He was holding a letter, addressed to Harry.

Snape closed his eyes. He'd really done it. Written to Potter. He'd meant it, the house, the fig tree, everything.

"Would you like me to give this to Harry?"

Snape squeezed his eyes shut, trying to prevent the tears from falling. He failed. He only cried for a few seconds, then looked at Dumbledore. "No. Please don't. It's better this way."

Dumbledore nodded. "Some day, he must know."

"Yes. I know. But not now."

"Why not, Severus? It's your grief, and his as well?"

Snape's chin came up: "I don't want him to know I'm... weak," he said.

Dumbledore shook his head: "You mean, you'd prefer he think you a bastard who has never had a human emotion in his life?"

Not looking at the Headmaster, Snape nodded. Dumbledore sighed: "I will respect your wishes, Severus but if it becomes necessary I will tell him."

Snape didn't answer, but stood: "May I leave now, Sir?"

"Yes. I'll need to see you later today. We have some strategic planning to do."

Snape turned and left, stiff, unbowed, painfully alone. Dumbledore sat at his desk and, finally, he too cried.

They were dumped out of the memory. The portrait Dumbledore was back in his frame, a sad smile on his face. It was dawn.

Hermione said softly: "That explains the fig tree."

"The fig tree?" asked the portrait.

Harry nodded: "Remember, Sir, I told you I'd had a memorial stone put in the cemetery in Godric's Hollow? It was after you died. A few months later the Muggle caretaker wrote to tell me that someone had planted a fig tree near the stone... and that, despite it not being adapted to the climate, it was flourishing. She also said that someone, whom she never saw, came by at least once or twice a month to leave lavender."

Dumbledore nodded. "Ah. Yes. You'd never have guessed it if you didn't know it, but that is the type of thing that Severus would do."

Harry sighed: "I'll have another stone put up. Next to Sirius, under the fig tree."

"His rock?" asked Ron, "What happened to it?"

The portrait pointed to Minerva's desk: "It's in her top drawer. I made her get it. I had hoped that somehow we'd be able to return it to him, but that didn't happen. It was... very precious to him."

Ginny opened the drawer and took out the smooth black rock. A tear rolled down her cheek and dropped on it and they all leaned in to see the slightly darker heart.

"How sad..." sighed Hermione.

But the portrait shook his head: "What was sad is the little time they had, because of who they were, because of the circumstances. But the time they did have together was... close to perfect."

They sat in silence, each thinking of a love that had spanned so many years yet brought so little happiness. Dumbledore spoke next: "The letter is in the book, if you want to read it."

Harry stared at it, touched it lightly. The last thing Sirius had written. He shook his head: "No. I... In case..."

The portrait Dumbledore nodded, and then said: "They... they really did love each other. No matter what it seemed. They did love."

"Why did he hate me?" asked Harry. "He didn't seem to, when I was a baby."

Dumbledore sighed: "That is my fault. He wanted... he wanted to raise you, Harry. He said he'd leave Hogwarts, get a job, something, whatever it took but he'd promised your mother he'd protect you and that since Sirius was... in Azkaban, his promise held. I refused, and even though I explained about the protection you had as long as you stayed with your aunt, he resented that. And over the years, he grew to resent that it made him feel unhappy to know how miserable you were. Then you came to school, and you looked exactly like your father. And you didn't like him much either. He wanted so much for you to be like your mother and all he saw was your father... But deep inside, no matter, he was... attached to you, and protective of you, and indeed, he gave his life for you."

His voice trailed off and he seemed sad... then suddenly he perked up: "Oh. Remember Miss Richardson?"

They all nodded.

"That conference was a seminal moment for her. She is now very well placed at the European Space Agency where she makes sure that we can maintain our secrecy in face of new Muggle techniques." He sighed. "And you've met Stephen, the boy who dumped her."

"Oh?" asked Ron.

"He washes dishes at The Leaky Cauldron."

After breakfast they all went to bed, waking up in the early afternoon for the ceremonies and the small reception held on the lawn in front of the Castle. It was always the same, mind numbingly boring.

After the dignitaries left, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny walked around the grounds, and Neville came to join them. They walked down to the lake, to where James Potter had so cruelly tormented Snape and just stood there in silence for a while.

The Great Hall was filled with students, and teachers, and dinner was a happy affair, the leaving feast, awarding the House Cup (Ravenclaw) and everyone was bubbling with the excitement of summer ahead.

The students trailed back to the dormitories to pack and the adults sat around the table, talking. Molly and Arthur Weasley were there, and Bill and Fleur, and Remus and Tonks.

Suddenly Celeste Sinstra gasped, staring up at the high ceiling that mirrored the outside sky.

"No!" she exclaimed, "That's not possible."

Firenze, the centaur, rushed outside with her, and when they came back inside she was shaking her head and he had an enigmatic smile on his face.

"What?" asked Hermione.

"The Great Ceiling is not an exact mirror of the night sky!" she said, still shaking her head. "That's the first time I've ever heard of this."

"Oh?" asked Minerva.

Professor Sinistra nodded: "Yes, things are normal in the sky, but here? Serpens and Canis Major have both moved from their places in the sky and are now next to each other!" She sounded outraged.

Firenze spoke next: "The Snake and the Dog are together at last."

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny looked at each other, none of them ashamed of the tears in their eyes, then up to the area of the ceiling that Professor Sinistra was pointing at. Harry's voice was soft: "Be happy!" he said. They knew it wasn't just their imagination, because Sinistra gasped and Firenze sighed, when Sirius, brightest star in the sky, winked at them.  
  
**Finis**

3


End file.
